


Making Memories

by LtTanyaBoone



Category: X Company
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-03
Updated: 2016-09-03
Packaged: 2018-08-12 18:57:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7945540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LtTanyaBoone/pseuds/LtTanyaBoone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aurora can't sleep and seeks refuge in Alfred's tent. (heavily bordering on PWP)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Making Memories

"Alfred," she whispers softly in the darkness and waits for him to stir before she touches him. Just a brush of her hand against his shoulder, a reassurance that it's okay, it's her, he can move and talk.

"Huh?" he mumbles and shifts, half sitting up. She swallows and hesitates, her eyes darting to the flap of the tent before she focuses on him again.

"Can I, stay here?"

He frowns and blinks owlishly at her, his brain still muddy with dreams.

"I'm sorry," she starts to apologize, drawing a slow breath. "It's just..." she trails off, teeth worrying at her bottom lip when she looks away in shame. She can't bring herself to say it out loud. It took her three hours of attempting to fall asleep by herself, without the reassuring sound of someone else's breathing before she finally folded and gave up and admitted that it wasn't going to happen.

"Oh," Alfred breathes before he nods quickly. "Yes, of course," he agrees and starts to get up. She frowns at him in confusion.

"What are you doing?" she asks him, and he frowns back.

"I thought we're switching?" he mutters and she feels her eyes widen. Not because he misunderstood her, but because she suddenly realizes that this is something that's never happened before. Not him misunderstanding, that has happened and still does, as annoying as it is. No, them sharing a tent, or any kind of sleeping arrangement, for that matter. They've never done that before.

"Alfred," she starts and then stops, instead leaning in to brush her lips over his in a gentle caress, her hands going to cradle his face gently. "You don't have to leave," she whispers before she leans back. He tenses, she feels it radiate off him in harsh waves. And then he nods and shifts, freeing a pillow for her.

"Thank you," she mutters and carefully steps over him to curl up between him and the side of the tent.

"Good night," he whispers into the darkness and she returns the sentiment before she closes her eyes. And finds sleep eluding her yet again. This time, it is due to the tense, unmoving block lying at her back. She's not entirely sure if he's still breathing for how still Alfred is keeping. Slowly, she turns and watches him, lying there on his back, staring at the top of the tent, his arms ramrod straight at his sides. And she can't help herself, Aurora rolls her eyes.

"Relax," she whispers and reaches for his hand. Coaxes his fist open so she can hold it easily. Alfred lets out a shuddering breath and she searches his face, suddenly wondering if it is too much, for his synesthesia.  To have her so close.

They touch more, now. Since the first kiss. It's gentle caresses that end quickly. Soft kisses that never go any deeper, the brushing of a hand over a shoulder or down a back, fingers brushing away a curl of hair, carefully straightening a tie or fixing the collar of a coat.

Suddenly, she feels compelled to ask.

"Alfred," she whispers his name and he turns his head to look at her, lying on her side facing him. "You've never, done this, before?" she asks, hoping he catches her meaning. Judging by the harsh swallow he gives, he does. And then he slowly shakes his head no.

"No," he breathes and she feels his hand squeeze hers as the breath leaves her.

"You, and René," he begins and she quickly reaches out, placing her fingers against his lips to shush him.

"Yes," she confirms, hesitates, and then pushes on, because she needs him to know this, too. "He wasn't the first."

Alfred stares at her in surprise and shock and marvel and she can't help that her lips quirk into a soft, sheepish smile and attempts a shrug. She scoots closer and lifts his arm over her so she can rest her head against his chest. His heart is hammering away against his ribs, trying desperately to escape. She wills herself to relax and strokes her thumb over the back of his hand now cradling her shoulder.

"What are you doing?"

"Just try and-" she starts and then cuts herself off at the sheer ridiculousness of the situation. It feels like this one time she had been forced to share a bed with Harry and the guy had practically died from trying to be chivalrous. "I won't do anything," she still says, worried by the edge of panic in his voice. "Just sleeping, nothing more."

And with that, she closes her eyes and starts counting her breaths to keep them even and relaxed. Alfred still lies there, tense and motionless, and Aurora has almost drifted off to sleep before he shifts against her, relaxing. She feels him press a kiss against her hair and lets out a soft humm. Allows herself to turn more into him, cuddles closer. Her head tilts up and before she knows it, her lips find his again. His mouth opens and he kisses back, slowly, languidly. She loses track of time, her hand going up to twist into his hair and pull him closer.

It takes him slipping a trembling hand under the top of her PJs for her to notice what is happening. By then, they're both breathing heavily, pressed against each other, the tension shifting into something else, growing into desire and hunger.

"Alfred," she whispers against his lips and breaks the kiss to be able to look at him. His eyes are wide, surprise and nervousness shining in them. "We don't have to," she tells him, stroking his cheek. She means it, too. It has never occurred to her; before tonight, she'd been perfectly happy with the soft kisses and gentle touches.

"I know," Alfred nods and then he swallows, his fingers moving against her skin, making her break out into goosebumps. "I want to, though," he adds and that's all it takes for her to kiss him again.

She lets him stroke her back under the top of her PJs before she reaches between them and starts undoing the buttons. Slowly, she moves to kneel and pulls it off, watching his face as he stares at her. He's seen her in various states of undress, but he'd always been quick to avert his eyes. He doesn't, now. Now, he takes her in, lets his eyes travel over her body, memorizes her. The thought makes her blush as she wonders if perhaps that had been why he had turned away so fast in the past, that he hadn't wanted to be able to remember, to have unbidden memories sneak up on him when he wasn't sure she would be comfortable with him knowing her like that.

"I want to see you, too," she whispers and reaches for the hem of his shirt and pulls it up. He sits up to help, his face so close all of a sudden and then he kisses her again, differently. Hungrily. His hands start at her hips before they move up, stroking her naked skin. She shivers at the touch and breaks the kiss, panting, her chest heaving when he touches her breasts. His hand settles over her heart and she lets out a soft chuckle at how hard it is beating, racing just like his moments ago. He smiles at her and leans in for another kiss, a hand going up into her hair to pull her closer. It upsets her balance and she falls forward, against him, the force pushing him onto his back. He lets out a gasp of surprise, grip tightening at the contact of her skin.

"It's okay," she mumbles, running her hands over his chest in what she hopes is a soothing touch. Traces nonsense patterns into his skin.

"Aurora," Alfred breathes against her lips, his voice strange, tight with emotion. She breaks the kiss, rubs her nose against his as she takes his hand and guides it from her waist, lower, lets it dip beneath the bottoms of her PJs. He surprises her by pulling back and then slowly pulling her pants down. He seems surprised by her lack of underwear and she shakes her head in amusement. She turns on her side again and pulls him with her, pulls him close as she hooks her leg over his hip. Alfred jerks, a strangled moan leaving him. She can feel him through the thin material of his bottoms and her hips move against his slowly, eliciting a groan as he hides his face in her neck. His tongue darts out and she lets her head fall to the side, allowing him more access and hoping he won't leave a mark. That might be hard to explain to the others come morning.

She gives him a few seconds of warning, raking her nails over his abdomen before she finally reaches into his pants. Alfred stills as her fingertips move along his length, his body trembling, breath faltering. She moves her lips against his cheek, trailing soft kisses over his skin as she encircles him and moves her hand up and down his shaft. His breath catches in his throat and his hips jerk against her hand before he grabs her elbow tightly, stilling her movements. His breath is warm; quick and harsh against her collarbone and he trembles in an attempt to control himself.

"Alfred," she whispers his name, nudging his cheek with her nose when he doesn't react. "Do you want me to go on?" she asks, unable to resist another kiss. "Like this?" she adds and moves her hand against him again. "Or do you want your pants off?"

"Off," Alfred breathes, though he makes no move to do that. Aurora feels herself smiling as she shakes her head slightly and lets go of him in favor of pulling his pants down. He does help her then, turns onto his back and helps kick them off. But when she moves to kiss his thigh, he shoots up and grabs her upper arm to stop her and shakes his head.

"Don't," he husks, lips moving against her cheek, trailing kisses along her jawline before he kisses her searchingly. Kisses her so hard it makes her see stars, makes her gasp and feel like she's drowning. His hands roam over her body, slowly setting her on fire with his touch. He is growing bolder, allows himself to reach between her legs and she lets out another gasp and grabs his wrist at the contact. He stills and watches her intently and she licks her lips and swallows and tries to catch her breath. She didn't anticipate that move, didn't expect it at all. She lets herself fall back and pulls him with her, pulls him on top of her, her legs circling his waist. Alfred groans against her shoulder, hips jerking against hers. His hand pulls away as he steadies himself and he looks at her, searches her face with an anxious question shining in his eyes. She reaches up, cradles his face, her thumbs stroking his cheeks.

"Yes," she whispers softly before she raises her head to kiss him, one hand leaving his face to reach between them and help guide him into her. He breaks the kiss, his forehead touchings hers as he draws ragged breaths, hips settling against hers. Alfred clutches at her, hands gripping painfully and she hugs him tightly and rolls her hips, allowing a moan to slip past her lips.

There is no finesse to this. They don't manage to build up a steady rhythm, their movements faltering, erratic. But it still feels so wonderful and she can actually feel herself growing close. She needs him, wants him, her nails digging into his shoulderblades as a gasp leaves her, just before Alfred breaks their kiss with a groan, his hips snapping forward before he stills and spills into her with a strangled sound. She can't help the soft smile that settles on her lips and kisses his forehead when she feels him grow heavy on top of her. He shifts then and attempts to pull away, but she moves with him, settling half on top of him.

"I'm sorry," he apologizes breathlessly as soon as he can get enough air into his lungs. She shakes her head and reaches out to touch his face.

"No," she mutters and strokes his cheek gently, staring into his eyes. "Don't be."

"I-" he starts and she quickly presses her fingertips to his lips to cut off his protest, only replacing them with her lips when he has closed his mouth. She doesn't know how tell him it was nice, perfect even, in a messy, imperfect way. She didn't expect a great performance, absolutely not. That wouldn't have been them. They're like this: imperfect, messy, but still good, still worth something in this world that is going to Hell by the second.

"It was, special," she tells him suddenly, unsure of where the words come from. Alfred stares at her, eyes wide in surprise and an innocence to him that has been missing lately. She smooths her index finger over his forehead, traces the faint lines there, the ones left from all the frowning lately. "I feel cherished. Treasured," she tells him, hesitating. She’s never said something like this before, not to him, not to anyone else for that matter. "It won't always be like this," she adds and sees his eyes dart away. Carefully, she touches his cheek, forces him to look at her before she kisses him slowly. "But the way it was, was... E flat major," she shrugs. His lips twitch in the hint of a smile then and she knows he understands what she's trying to say. She wonders, if she should ask. Even now, she's not entirely sure it is her place.

"What did it feel like?" she asks him. Alfred's eyes snap to hers in surprise. "Making love for the first time?" she adds, the words stumbling from her mouth in a breathless whisper. They're uncomfortable, too revealing. Leave her too exposed. But then again, she is already naked, her leg thrown over Alfred's hip, her skin still slick with sweat. She's already revealed so much to him, and she trusts him with it, as terrifying as that is.

"Like," he starts and swallows thickly, "fireworks. Explosions of colors and sound. Blue and yellow and purple and green. And warmth, like spreading wildfire, but tasting familiar, like spring..." he trails off, drawing a shuddering breath. "Aurora."

"Alfred," she replies, knowing he just needed to say her name. He does that, sometimes, and sometimes she thinks it comforts him when she says his in return. It's comforting to her, at least. The knowledge that there is someone who knows her name, her real name, someone who says is the way he does. Almost like it's a prayer. She feels his hand slowly run up and down her back, feels her eyes grow heavy. She turns her head, rests it on his chest again, a shiver running down her spine. Alfred shifts and she feels a blanket being pulled over her, or at least he attempts to. She has to help, coordinating her movements suddenly feeling like an almost impossible task. When she settles back against his side, his hand reaches up into her hair, cradles her head, the other settling on her hip, above the blanket.

"Goodnight," she mumbles, her voice barely audible, the word slurred with exhaustion and the sleep that is claiming her. Alfred lets out a soft sound that sounds almost like a snore and she relaxes into the boneless state of slumber, one hand settled over his heart, its calm beating lulling her to sleep.

_fin._


End file.
